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OTC
Completely unrelated and disconnected from the main body of the Sporum. The OTC (Off Topic Community) is a separate forum, created by Random Art, who is not affiliated with the Sporum. Currently one known member of this forum uses this site frequently and is something of another home to this user. AaronMk is a known user of the OTC and quiet fondly displays a link to this free-flowing, off-topic based forum. He hopes that someday he may pull users looking for an Off-Topic forum to this site until Maxis creates an official one OTC culture generally revolves around just being lax. The community is small and tight-knit allowing for sexual cat-calls to be traded without issue from both sides. Users venturing to this forum are advised to not take any of that seriously and to brace for the hazing they must go through before becoming a bro. Conversation rotates between many things, and it's difficult to keep track. Use of outdated smilies is common, at the forefront of which is ಠ_ಠ(originating from 4Chan). Phrases like Lop/Lopl are commonly used on this forum, though they originated on the forums for Gang Garrison 2, a Team Fortress 2 demake. There was also a short-lived stint of "dat gaot"; it's currently believed to be an actual OTC original For the "Civilized" the OTC provides users with an "On-Topic" forum. Users are expected to oblige by stricter rules on adherence to the topic. No discussion on any of the threads in any of the three On-Topic sub forums should stray from the original point for long. Deleting or editing of the offending posts may occur and banning of habitual users may happen (although it has not happened yet, we're all bro enough to know not to do this). The three on-topic subforums include: Art/Literature, Film/television/books/games and Philosophy/politics/religion/science. However, to break from the strict on-topic threads there is the general section. Containing very lax rules. So long as topics breaking ZetaBoard rules are not made anything can be made. Threads with a clear discussable topic (which may move away from the main point at any given time) are made in the main "Off Topic" forum, games go in "Forum Games", Intros and farewell threads in the similarly titled forum and spam in "Spam". The Head Honchos Like most forums, OTC is watched over by a variety of moderators. Here are just a few of them! Random Art One of two co-creators of the site, Random Art can be identified primarily by his 'alternative' lifestyle choices. By all accounts he can be considered a 'hipster', for he exhibits the primary traits. These include: Hatred of 'mainstream' culture Bad taste in music Ownership of a Macintosh computer Metrosexuality Usage of most trendy sayings, such as the word 'chode', which is the trendy way of referring to a 'penis'. Being a God damned philistine. He is currently engaged to fellow forumer FireFroggie. Joe All forums have their token homosexual, and Joe would be that token homosexual if most of OTC wasn't already gay (or British). The majority of his posts are him pissing himself over Lady Gaga. He is also very closet-minded regarding closets. Kae Along with the token homosexual is the token female, and Kae just so happens to be that token female. Unsurprisingly, the male members of the forum are willing to do anything she wants them to, giving her the guise of some sort of twisted puppet master. Besides letting people know she's a girl, other hobbies include watching bad movies, quoting lyrics to bad songs, and telling bad jokes. Her ass is like a unicorn. Glorious, but you will probably never see it. Huw One of the few remaining moderators of the website. As chance would have it, he is homosexual AND he lives in Wales. As such, all of his sexual partners thus far have been members of ovis aries, also known as the sheep. Ian/Masterlin The inactive, black administrator of the website. He is recognized as the token black of the site, due to his ethnicity. Another interesting tidbits about him is that he's actually never done anything notable or interesting. Thriller/Lyle/Other Brian One of the first moderators who got his position purely by asking, He has one major accomplishment: and that is the banning of the very VERY infamous user Niggerballs. Though, he has since returned as the user RyanJF and is a nice poster now. On Christmas Eve, 2008, banned fellow moderator Droog for reasons unknown, and because of this, has been demoded. After the demoding, he went into his infamous "postmod blues." and has since recovered. Rayosun The FIRST token female. Was a pioneer in being a female long before FireFroggie. She no longer visits the website and has been demoded ever since her inactivity. Other Guys Sueme It's unknown how Sueme2 is Sueme2. Many people have tried to duplicate his awesomeness; all have failed. It's suggested Sueme2 is an exception to the evolutionary code. Alex The 50th member who “demands respect mang” Winston/Gollum3000 A Gollum300disabled little man who was once a moderator, but lost his powers due to his inability to even use the system without screwing it up--big shocker, eh? Not really, he's always been this glaringly stupid. It was not until recently that he decided to cover all of that up with the typical "LOLOL I WAS TROLLING ALL ALONG!!!11" tactic, and inexplicably managed to deceive the other users in to believing this, due to him stating that he was going to act "less srs" on there; prior to the site's first week of activity. He has a tendency to 'jokingly' hit on all of the females there and they tend to do it back to him as some form of joke, despite the fact that they're mostly doing and accepting to it out of pity; because he's never had very many friends or even a girlfriend ever in his life. Rumor has it that his own mother forced him to go and make friends at a church group he goes to, where he met fellow outcasts and losers who are also virgins that enjoy the very same shitty video games and pornography. Ryan The forum communist socialist. He's also something of a cam whore and engages in posting many pictures of himself on the "What Do You Look Like" thread. He's also said to have mob connections. OTC Religion: As is expected from a forum ran by kids-young adults with some-what liberal tendencies the residents have mostly shunned main-stream religion. As such a mock religion was made by the OTC and is based around prominent member Andros. He's frequently praised for his general ability to be awesome and his godly sense of fashion (often wearing plad capes and wearing a multitude of hats). Creed is unknown, but many feel the answers to the meaning of life, the universe and everything lie within the inane ramblings of members Tikhan and Nathan. Such ramblings can be seen in depth on the thread "Untoughts" where they challenge readers to brave their college-length essay, mind numbing jargon. OTC politics is mixed. But it's believed the majority of Americans lean to the left where as the British are more conservative (or identify with the Birtish conservative party, what ever ideology that is). But ever so many months a mock election is held. Runners pit themselves against each other for no perks except for a color-change in their name and being the President/Vice-president. The current ruling two are Andros and Lyle. Unlife Unlife is the religous creed of the OTC as written by Nathan and Tikhan. All intelectual properties go to them, and all minds raped now belong to them. You you will very likely not understand it. If you do, it's asylum time. ''Me and nathan have words for you all The goal is not to skim through words but to read and read until you have blooded pulp for a brain. ------- To seek mental images in the balance not found, seek to establish the mirrored thought which are the engines of deceit, sponsoring time's conspiracy of deluded illusion, falsely presenting the notion that the mind is the rightful ownership of the individual alone. Finding oneself in the forever spinning change of the same echoed presence, where only the catastrophic myth of pain remains to swallow imaginative resurrections of a thought other than of this suspended darkness. Look and rouse to the knowledge that there is no living, breathing mind, that time withdrew in favored realization that there is a freed associated of the soul when nothing exists. Pleased to call themselves mere ghosts in a distortion, evergrowing abundances of fractured glass, rapidly plunging into a disarray of missing matter, lost again to this blinded age of false intent, they silence a revolted consciousness as they sentence imperfections to a reckless disappearance of a reflection staring back. The possibility and probability of a strong black rite transforming into a flooding theocratic state of affairs, murdering the tongue of existence in its complete totality, becoming such a fragile, watered-down version of a perfect loud constancy, is infinite in nature. A disarray in which a hanging bit of length measured not by tools, but rather by inability to differenciate between life and death has particular value within oceans of discontent at one's endangerment of sanity. Birthed from the womb of blind acceptance only to smother in this exhausted barrenness of filth, unable to tranquil shriveled substances of the mind that ravage silently from this erroneous disease, fighting the horrid heavy eyelids and want to breathe a dying breath. Desecrate, a fading innocence, a beautiful call of sudden awakening, until everything dims away. Fired burned from persistent cries of totality, the grace of light shattered by a promise broken, clenched its ugly hand and dripped poison on tired wings of hopeless flight. Resurrection. Vital unlife sought the mirror and followed himself as antichrist of order, clawing through boundaries unknown to facades of starvation, itself beyond proportion. Resisting without control and mindless sustainance of the throes of uncontrol until the tone was set, drifting into the fever and torching the casket of deepest fear. Screamed words revealing death to our belonging, dug through the distortion into an undiscovered disguise of a life. A vacancy was opened, trauma birthed inside, fleeting ghosts originated in the air. Rushed off to this cage of glass, skin crawling, nearing the single window, collided with physical emotion and broken was the fall of sleep. Madness paid a visit, release seeping through to the unwanting. Broke the lock, got on the knees. Halted the voice of unfulfilment. Unfathomable whisperings wherein insufficient facts breed like the obscene original sinners that all ended up screaming a little louder. Drifting with the days outnumbered even in sight of uncontrolled spaces, lifeless even when provoked by countless uncharted soils. No chances to step and reach for the all-seeing eye as unexistant as this measurement. A face of inner aggression thrust through skin and bone, aroused with unveiling essences in the wake of a voyage to seek an empty cup. Dimensions of happiness falling from the skies, solace of gray ravaging souls, subconsious powers of space mortify and seep urges of unrest in the womb. Riddled by trappings of lost promises and indifferent justices that make the edges blur as if just one day, leveling towers of rational instinct and insight deciphered all fell. Not guilty of anything except living, this failure to suspend a futile absent form, failure in fulfilling a weaving awareness of the hypnotic pendulum and falling on its grave, is a paradise lost in man's misaligned realization sustaining even the manifested corruption in which an entrapped, wandering soul in an eternal dream is drawn to the depths of unimportance, tangled in imagery of everlasting incompleteness. A verdict falsely split through various entwined truths, still so alone, shattered in the icy consequence of intended service to the greater scheme of things. Voiced in intuitive moment the creation of life by means of endless configured presentations of death, sacrificing a newly born grave for the demand to make a series of miscalculated leaps, plunging its womb into a blindness so great to conceal reality forever in a broken examination. How endlessly crippled, how defenseless and forced, forced to comprehend the message wherein long emergences of the urge sleep are revealed to be desperate imprisonments, to weep and scream a sacrilege of hope in a confusion. Losing the illusion of security in the misleading light where the thread of knowing is endlessly ripped and tormented from its evolution and strangled by the human condition, where all expanding process is redirected into trivial symbols amazingly locked into minds, interior turning to this violently crumbled exterior. Deaf to the decaying call of what is, tuning in only to a deformed relief of what slowly grows itself like a plague to awareness. Revolted eyes withdrawn from awaiting the moment, forever absent and shielded against anything but deep, mutually destructive, shadowed substances where only a cowering rest shines through. As the residue passed what came to no surprise were jagged edges of this search abandoned, fevered blood forcing a paleness of light to get rid of the self, cast aside as a mere nuisance to be driven headlong from darker trails and wreck the shores of scattered delusions. Thought is just a trial beset by true revelation to restrict the living labyrinth of invisible prisoners from seeking withdrawn symbology of foreign receivers, holy in nature but inanely misguided. Lacking vibrations of responsiveness, to reverse and return to unyielding nothingness, to a conscious twist in the revolving spirits, mark a desperate plight from engines which can allow one to play in mazes of tombstones. When a hopeless intrusion turns into a connect denied, when its very denial stands in its own raked away remains, when the onslaught of demands crosses out a sin by which we are measured. There, in that moment, cornered patterns in infected veins of the mind reign, mute to an unthought scream, where death hindered the radical ideas of breaking the path and burning the bridges. As in the unseen hands, this art of reduction where infiltrators and corruptors flee into more pleasant dimensions has been roaming streets of disfigured begging in the screens of apathy. Forgetting to drown the sounds may bring interlocked sequences of tears poisoning water, of futile unblinking repentance and fragments of demonic fear that lingers at the back of throats and minds. '' - Tikahn ''tikhan is wise i mean wide the untreaded territory of the false mind has a negative effect on the reality of life due to powers that are not possible to own until one reaches enlightenment, though guaranteed to give you thoughts of a weird nature. great connections with a comparison to photosensitive trauma can be overturned in a way that creates a deep understanding of the grisly intent of which our thoughts are concieved, they tell decietful data to our eyes that always generate bad influences upon the person's health. solid treatment of the more intuative arguements following the same subject of light entities can be uneffected during the time of dawn, this can be effected due to the balance between light and dark obliterating the once was balanced brain components. marrying the 2 ideas of roaming through lands of time and entering great substance like universes have been pondered upon for many years, often the result triggers a madness that no other question can quite deliver to the recipitent that is aware of the flawed questions. insults that convey the emotion of anger will enforce the neglected truth of which the world is run within the grounds of the government, which can farce a collision with justice and courage, possibly on the south of the equator as the south has plenty for surreal artifacts that tense the brain muscules into an almost paralysis state, meaning less grounded decisions. generating untested notions during a debate around the great ideas of stern thinking of children can often be taken advantage of if the bystanders have pure minds, which can step inside the thoughts of the testers in an easy fasion, and in some cases inprison the tester in his own chamber filled thoughts for a lengthy period of time. some time after this years of revenge the crafting of blind humans will take a turn to the masses, as people will not want to live with seeing the world as it really is, this is a manic but steady way of having less people see reality though containing sane aspects of their life. this inturn will manafacture a person's own reality, which will make the being more inept to bad sights and mind images which will lead to a healthier life. connecting hurrendous meaning through the passage of the damned is an unmoral way of granting yourself peace as it upholds great evil to every living thing within 4 miles of your radius which will cause catastrophic effects upon the world. reclusion containment is the only place a person that has done this can stay and hold refuge but often weeping for eternity and often find themself hoping for universal destruction, of course this is why they who seek peace never speak words as they are happy with the bad in the world due to their own happiness. mutiny of men caught upon by minimal forces that undergo utter destruction is portrayed in many books containing words that compromise the truth behind life as we know it. contrary to baffled recourses we can stand upon mountains and gaze upon the realisation of upholding great economic powerhouses, breathing too with general breezey winds it will have benefits beyond the characteristics of conquered minds. string of the graceful will corrupt all organisms by starnglings the musculs of all other unwanted phases of life, bouncing upon recognition of uncomprehendable spoken words that are by entities not quite understood by moral species. they undergo great lengths to not be names or caught for if they do conspiracy to engage will be too strong for tiny mortals who know little boundaries. probing the delapitated foundations of spinal insertion could be a responce to many unheard and unthought questions that have been truant for a number of billions of decades. moving to such stately areas of nerturing blindness will be the bounty of many who undergo it's ordeals, which may take longer than carrying out acts that are too unstable to be certain of its outcome. fear of insisting content of mild disorientation could refocus attention upon anatomy which will cause peril upon all users of the main contraction mechanism. greatly appreciated was the banishing of the repugnant atmosphere of the vile new order, problems arose containing major panic upon the people who's lifes had been spoiled by this now withdrawn entity. the chorus that is intromented by demonic siblings will refer to the deception of the gods, with companions of these be forever repulsed or forever patriotic to the thoughts of their rivals. ambiguously they throttled the arrival of power under the decietful eyes of the wrath that they only bravely dismantled before their journey, having an effect that subsides during the darker terrain. infrangible torrents of iquid evil will surface at mystic hours and flourish the land which garnered it's very existence. delicate figures that date back long ago can possess imane ammounts of gentle memories of further past. corresponding patterns break many unfortunate occurances which modern intuative minds cannot fathom, this mainly considers the gargantuan premesis that evolution of horror that has trapped more terrorising ideas to save unholy pandemics. exhaustion of ancients that cemented gearless boothes could not retract the statements of unsure civilian like behaviour by countless fraud incorparted armies. only in this first instances of sheer destructive thermal orientated mutilation will bring the thoughts of our trapped, malnourished minds to the surface of us all. '' - Nathan Quotes of Significance: "I have a full cup of vodka for when I am thirsty and I have an empty cup for when I'm not thirsty: LOGIC." - Tikhan "How would you be laughing while I come in with a quick jab to that enormous nose of yours, to where I come forward and bring you down with my foot behind yours and a ridge hand to the neck, while I grab that and toss you down instantly while then continuously punching you towards the face and then pull out a knife if I grow tired of that?" - Matt "i am getting the same vibe from this one boy i think he has a lingering issue at his throat such as measuring nonexistent things whilst he falls asleep to the tv to some meaningless streets of pocketed cans" -Tikhan "YOU DON'T WANT HIM TO D THAT DUE TO TIKH HAVING PARKINSONS HE WILL RUB UNTIL HE HAS TO STOP TO GATHER MORE OF HIS FAVOURITE NOVELS HE WILL GO ON UNTIL EVERY BOOK STORE ONLY HAS BOOKS ABOUT LOCAL CARNIVALS" -Nathan "If you want to blow a fagott you can do it to that song - it's a great experience." -Andros (Referring to a song an a flute-like instrument.) For a more In-Depth Learning: For the insane and those tired of waiting for Maxis to make their own OT section: Click Category:Oversized